


how the sun loved the moon

by theshipshipper



Series: We're All Part of the Cosmic Joke [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, F/M, Memory Loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2018-11-16
Packaged: 2019-08-24 10:24:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16638146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theshipshipper/pseuds/theshipshipper
Summary: "Tell me the story about how the sun loved the moon so much he died every night just to let her breathe.”-anonymous





	how the sun loved the moon

**Author's Note:**

> This won't make sense unless you've read the first part so, ya know... read part 1 first, I guess? :D

 The first time Jon let himself see her again, it was a month after the accident.

She was discharged a couple weeks ago and had been transferred into the institute to receive better care in her condition.

He hasn’t seen her since the hospital; not since she stared him in the eye with a blank expression and asked who he was.

He wanted so badly to believe she was teasing but Sansa wouldn’t make a joke like that. Not ever.

“A friend,” he’d said, scrambling for words to say amidst the shock and confusion.

Thinking about that moment still makes his chest ache.

 

_You’ll get used to it_ , he told himself stubbornly.  _If it has to hurt now then let it hurt_.

He’s been to the institute a few times, including that time when they were arranging Sansa’s transfer from the hospital, so the nurse at the front desk recognizes him immediately and hands him the guestbook.

“She’s in the lounge,” the girl says helpfully. “I’ll have a nurse escort you to her.”

“Um, thank you - “ He reads her name tag. “Gilly..., but, uh - she won’t recognize me. She doesn’t remember.” Jon paused, letting the ache linger. “Can I just stay there for a while? I just wanted to see her is all.”

She nodded in understanding. “Of course.”

He’s probably not the first person she’s met dealing with the same situation.

Almost immediately, Jon’s led into the lounge by another nurse and he spots Sansa in a second.

She looks good, he notes. Much better than the last time he’d seen her. The bruising on her face from the crash is gone now and she doesn’t have a sling for her arm anymore.

It brings Jon some relief.

_Some_ , because the rest of him is still trying to shove away the hurt.

But despite how much it hurts to see her, he makes it a habit to visit her from then on.

Home stops feeling like home without her; the apartment feels too big and too quiet, and being at home starts to feel more painful than anything else.

 

*

 

“How are you holding up?” Robb asked once they’re a few beers in.

Getting Jon drunk to make him open up is a good tactic but he’s not drunk yet so he just says: “I’m fine.”

It’s a lie and it’s obvious Robb doesn’t buy it but he lets it go for now.

“You seen her?”

Jon nodded. “Everyday now. She looks good, she seems - ” His voice falters.

It hurts. It still hurts so much.

Robb reached over the table, putting a hand on his shoulder. “It’s tough. I know, man, just — If it gets too much... if... I won’t blame you if...”

Jon already knows what he’s about to say; he’s going to let him off the hook, as though he wants to be.

He shook his head. “Don’t even say it. I can’t, Robb. I don’t  _want_  to. I can’t lose her.”

He knows he already has.

Everyday his hope that Sansa will miraculously remember him only slithers away. But it doesn’t matter.

He loves her and it won’t change just because she doesn’t remember it. It doesn’t work like that.

“Look. I know, man. I know - and I love you for it. You don’t — “ Robb took a deep breath. “You’re family, Jon. That will never change — but seeing you go through this is just as hard for us. And if we could make it better, we would.” He paused, evidently bracing himself for what he says next. “I think the only way it stops hurting is if you move on.

“I hate that I’m even saying this but I have to because I love you and I need you to know that you can give up. We’ll understand — and I know Sansa would too.”

Jon shook his head again, more vigorously now. “I can’t. It doesn’t matter what you I just can’t do it.” That’s when the tears start to fall. “You might as well just kill me, Robb.”

There’s no easy way through this, Jon knows that. But even so, he’d rather go through a million horrible days in this new world where the love of his life doesn’t know who he is than spend one day where that doesn’t hurt,

Because if it doesn’t hurt it means he doesn’t love her anymore — and Jon just can’t picture it.

“I’ll be okay,” he says, more for Robb’s sake than his. “I promise. I’ll be okay, you don’t have to worry.”

 

*

 

“Are you okay?”

Visiting hours on Sundays starts early so Jon uses the opportunity to be there as early as he can, so he’d see her for longer.

He looked up, shaken from his thoughts, and he’s surprised to find Sansa looking right at him.

He clears his throat in surprise. “I - uh - yeah...”

She doesn’t look convinced. “You mind if I sit here?” She asked, pointing at the empty space on the bench before looking around. “Everywhere else is crowded.”

It would be; it’s a family day so there’s a lot of people visiting the institute.

Jon nodded. “Yeah, go ahead.”

She gives him a smile and settled down next to him.

She has a book with her. It’s one of her favorites; Florian and Jonquil. He brought it for her a month ago when he noticed that she kept looking for something at the bookshelf in the lounge.

He realized she must’ve been looking for one of her favorites so he brought them all and asked Sam to put it in her room. He hopes she’d at least be comforted by them when she wakes up confused as to where she is or what happened.

He chewed on his lip nervously, wracking his head for what he should do. This is the first time he’s speaking to her after the hospital.

“Are you visiting?” She asked, breaking the silence.

He nodded.

It makes her frown. “Why are you alone then?”

“I’m not,” he says, giving her a smile. “I’m with you, aren’t I?”

She snorted. “Smooth. Seriously, though, why?”

She’s looking at him curiously and he can tell from her expression that she really wants to know.

Jon took a deep breath, thinking. “It’s complicated.”

“How so?”

“They don’t remember who I am.”

Sansa frowned. For a moment he thinks she might’ve figured it out but she only says: “That’s too bad. No wonder you look so sad.”

“Yeah.”

 

*

 

He’s never the first to approach her because he knows it might make her uncomfortable but she comes up to him often enough that it makes him feel better.

It doesn’t happen all the time but the days that she does are the best.

It usually goes similarly to the first time. As much as he’d like to think that there’s some sort of pull that makes her go to him every time, like some part of her remembers him even though her mind cannot, he knows it’s not the case.

She always points out how sad he looks and he thinks that must be it; like seeing a sad puppy - she just can’t stop herself from wanting to help.

“Here,” she says, handing him a hair tie.

He takes it, caught off guard. Sansa used to do this all the time; she prefers it when his hair’s tied up. She says she likes it better when she can see his face.

“You’ll look more handsome when your hair isn’t all over your face.”

The statement make him ache; their interaction is so familiar that it hurts. He does his best not to show it, merely giving her a smile.

“Thanks.” He brushes his hair back and tied it up. “You think I’m handsome?”

“I think you’re extremely hot, actually.” She smirked when he turns to her in shock. “I’m told I have amnesia. I won’t have to be embarrassed about hitting on you when I wake up tomorrow.”

“But I’ll remember,” he says, and it comes out more heartbroken than teasing. “It’d be hard to forget such a pretty girl.”

She smiled, pleased.Then she sighed. “You know, you really shouldn’t be flirting with me.”

He tilts his head curiously. “Why not?”

“Because I’ll only break your heart.” She gives him a teasing smile. “Amnesia, remember?”

 

*

 

In between the good days and the okay days comes the bad. Those are the worst because it reminds him how helpless he actually is in all this.

And the reminder comes more often than Jon would like.

“It’s a bad day, Jon,” Gilly tells him in greeting, giving him a sheepish look. “She refuses to come out of her room.”

He tried not to look disappointed. “It’s alright. I’ll still stay a bit, anyway. Just in case.”

_Just a glimpse of her and I’ll be okay_ , he tells the universe. Maybe, just maybe, some higher being is listening to him and would grant him his wish.

 

*

 

If they’re out there, they don’t listen.

 

*

 

Moving to a new place is horrible in so many ways but the worst is the fact that he doesn’t get to see Sansa.

Between work and packing all their stuff, it’s difficult to find a chance to see her.

And — if he’s really honest — it’s difficult to come see her when he’s packing up not just material things but all their memories as well.

“I hate this,” he says for over a hundred times. Annoyance is better than an outright breakdown so he sticks with it. “It feels like I’m conceding.”

“What do you mean?” Gendry asked, looking up from his task of disassembling Sansa’s dresser.

Jon sighed. “I mean like I’m conceding to the universe. Admitting defeat. Giving up. I don’t like the feeling.”

“Is this your way of telling Gendry that you don’t want to move in with him?” Arya asked, trying to make things light.

But Jon can’t.

“I’m saying that maybe I’m starting to accept that Sansa and I will never be together again and it scares me.” The pair of them stops what they’re doing, sensing the shift of his emotions.

He sat on the floor, looking around his almost-bare apartment. It’s close to how it looked when he and Sansa first moved in.

He took a deep breath, trying not to let the tears fall. “Right now, doing this — it feels like I’m erasing all traces of Sansa and I.” He turns to Arya. “All the proof that there was an us.”

Arya walked over to him and gave him a hug. “That’s not what this is. That’s not what you’re doing.”

“But I don’t know how I can keep doing this, Arya. It hurts so much and it just won’t stop hurting.” He admits on a sob, kicking a nearby box in frustration. “I don’t know what to do anymore.”

Arya wraps her arms around him again, and her voice comes shaky when she speaks. “You can stop, Jon. It hurts but it doesn’t have to. All you have to do is stop.” She sniffs. “Sansa would understand, you know she will.”

“She doesn’t even know me,” he shouts, lashing out. “It doesn’t matter to her what I do. It doesn’t make any difference to her anymore - but it matters to me. I know. I remember. Sometimes I wish — fuck, if I could just forget that I love her. If I could just — “ He kicks the box again but the fight in him dies down. “But I love her so, so much. I love her more than I’ve ever loved anyone in my life. I can’t just —- I won’t give up on her..“

“Okay. Okay, I’m sorry — “ Arya said, trying to calm him down. “I’m just saying - “

“I know what you’re saying; you’ve all said it to me over and over again. I get it.” Jon shook his head. “I’m pathetic and miserable and you all feel guilty about it. You think you’re doing me a favor by telling me I can just stop loving your sister  _but_  you’re not. I just — I don’t want to hear it anymore, Arya.”

And yet, three days later Sansa says the same thing to him.

“I know you — ” she said warily. “From the library, right?”

Jon blinked in surprise. He didn’t see this one coming.

“Yeah, uh - ” Hope spikes up in his chest. “You remember me?”

“No... I mean, just — “ She looks at him strangely. “Why do you ask? Do we know each other?”

He deflates. “No. Uh, just from the library.”

She doesn’t look convinced. “You’re lying. I do know you, don’t I?” She thought about it. “I remember you from yesterday and earlier when I woke up I realized why you look so familiar. I remember you from KLU but — it’s more than that, isn’t it?”

He chooses to focus on the most positive part. “I look familiar?”

“Yeah. It’s what I was trying to figure out yesterday because I couldn’t shake off the feeling that I know you and I just realized it today.”

Jon opened his mouth and shut it again. He doesn’t know what to say.

He’s heard from Sam that this happens sometimes. There are days where her memory stays intact for longer and then sometimes she forgets before the day is over.

The doctors can’t explain the irregularity but Arya says they’re taking it to mean she’s getting better.

_The brain is a tricky thing_ , or so they keep telling him.

When she realizes he won’t speak, she presses on. “You’re here for me, aren’t you? You told me you were visiting yesterday but I haven’t seen you with anyone else.” She waited for a response. “Am I right?”

She’s looking at him pleadingly, like she  _needs_  to know, and yeah, of course he’s going to tell her.

“Yeah. You’re right.” He swallowed. “I’m here for you.”

“Why?”

He gave her a sad smile. What is he supposed to say? “Because you’re important to me.”

She stares at him for a moment, this strange expression on her face. He knows the expression well; it means she’s trying to figure something out.

“You love me,” she says after a moment, bewildered. Like she’s just solved a difficult puzzle. “I think... I think I love you too. I don’t remember but I - I feel it.”

It’s exactly what Jon wants to hear; to have this assurance that no matter how difficult this situation can get, days like this can come.

Days where she figures out how he fits in all this.

“Is that why you look so miserable?”

“What?” He turned to her, curious.

“I make you missrable.”

Immediately, he shook his head. “No. That’s not - you don’t, San - “

“How often do you come here for me?”

He looked at her carefully. He has a feeling he knows where this is going. “Everyday.”

She stood up suddenly, and he knows that she’s made her mind up on something. “You should stop.”

“Stop what?”

“You should stop coming here. I don’t want you to.”

And then she left.

 

*

 

He tried. He really did.

But not seeing her made him more miserable than seeing her did.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Gendry said, taking the bottle of beer clutched to his chest. “It’s been three weeks, Jon. Just go see her.”

“I can’t. She asked me to stop.”

G flopped down next to him, taking a swig from the bottle. “The way I see it — you can either move on and forget about Sansa or just stop this charade and go see her like you want to.” Gendry passed him back the bottle. “You’re miserable either way so why not just go with the less miserable option?”

Jon downed the remainder of his drink. “That’s somehow not bad advice.”

“I just think — “ Gendry made a face. “I think about it sometimes, you know? If I were — If it’s me in your place and Arya doesn’t remember who I am, what would I do?” Gendry shook his head. “I don’t think I could stop loving her just because she asked me to.”

“Starks,” Jon agreed, almost jokingly. “Always asking for the impossible.”

Gendry smiled, patting him on the shoulder as he stood up. “Go. You still have a couple hours before visiting period ends.”

 

 

*

 

 

So that’s how he keeps going. 

Over and over again, he keeps going through the good, the okay, and the bad days.

It doesn’t stop hurting, not even a little. He doesn’t get used to the pain either but on and on he goes.

And every time Sansa figures it out and tells him to stop, he still doesn’t.

A part of him feels guilty about it, especially when he comes to see her the day after and he knows he’s being unfair to her for not following her wishes.

But the bigger part is grateful she can’t call him out on it.

“Am I being selfish? Should I have stopped?”

He turned helplessly to Robb and Arya, silently pleading for them to have all the answers.

It was his birthday yesterday and for the tenth time, Sansa had asked him to stop.

For the first time in all this he’s actually considering it.

Maybe that’s a sign from the universe to stop; maybe he should’ve been listening all along.

Robb and Arya exchange a look between them.

“I think...” Robb trailed off, trying to think of what to say. “I think there’s no right or wrong way to deal with this situation. We don’t know - we don’t have the answers, Jon, and maybe there isn’t even one. I think - and yeah, it sounds cheesy and ridiculous - but you can only follow your heart.”

 

*

 

And he doesn’t know what his hesrt is telling him so he goes to see Sansa instead.

That’s how it used to work since they got together; for the longest time now she’s been the person he came to for advice. She always knew how to help him best.

She’s at the lounge today so that’s where he goes to. She’s reading on the sofa and Jon heads over to one of the free chess tables.

He sometimes plays a round or two with one of the older patients but he’s not there today. To his surprise, Sansa takes the seat opposite him.

“Can I play?”

He didn’t even think she noticed him coming in. It usually takes a while before she ever approaches him, on the occasion that he does.

“Sure.” Jon said and he sets the table.

They play two rounds with one win each, and they’ve resulted to roasting each other as they play the third and final round.

He can almost pretend that they’re at home instead of the institute; pretend that Sansa’s okay and they’re back to how it was.

“You’re good at this “ she complimented halfway through their last game.

He rolled his eyes. “If you’re trying some sort of reverse-psychology to make me think I’m winning then - “

She laughed. “I’m serious, you’re good. And I only play chess with experts.”

He would know. The same expert taught him.

“Yeah?”

She nodded. “My brother. He’s a genius.” A pause. “But you know that, don’t you?”

He froze, unable to answer.

She gave him a knowing smile. “So, it didn’t help..? Me telling you to move on?”

Jon looked down, remembering how she’d kissed him underneath the Weirwood tree yesterday.

_“Happy birthday, Jon,” she tells him as she pulled away, this strange expression on her face._

_He doesn’t know what to say; doesn’t even know what to think._

_But she does. Always one step ahead, his girl._

_“I don’t — I don’t remember you but I think I know why I love you. You’re a very loving man, Jon, and I can’t even — I’m lucky.” She gives him a sad smile. “Thank you for loving me but I think it’s time you let me go.”_

He gives her a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry. It didn’t.”

“Don’t you get tired of it?”

He let out a heavy breath. “Sometimes. But then I see you and for a moment it stops hurting.”

She studies him for a moment. “How many times have I asked you to move on?"

“Every time you figure it out,” he admits. “Ten.”

She nodded. “You know why I asked you to? Because you look so miserable and helpless and when I realized it’s because of me, I just got this - this feeling in my chest, like a stab. I don’t know you but it hurts me to know that I’m hurting you.

“So, please,” she looks at him pleadingly. “Please just stop. I know it’s maybe unfair that I’m asking you to, but — you deserve to get your life back. Me? I’m told this is my life now but you have so much more time to move on and find - “

“No, San. Don’t. Please don’t.”

“Jon,  _we_  need to do this - “

He took her hand pleadingly. “Sansa.”

“Please do it for me,” she asks, squeezing his hand gently. “Please?”

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> PREVIEW TO PART 3:
> 
> “Hey, what’s wrong?” Robb asked in mild panic, looking at her helplessly as she started to cry.
> 
> She doesn’t even know why she’s crying, she just knows that it —
> 
> “It hurts.” She sobs out. “I don’t know why but I just have this feeling like - like I lost something. And it’s making my chest hurt.”


End file.
